


Running

by Luzula



Series: The Shapeshifter 'Verse [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Transformation, Backstory, Dogsledding, First Meetings, Gen, Podfic Available, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-20
Updated: 2008-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline runs, the one moving creature in a white and frozen world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Caroline as a werewolf just delighted me so much that I had to write some of her story, too. This is how she first met Bob. A big thank you to Akamine_chan for taking a look at this in the middle of writing her Match fic!

Caroline is down at the willows around the frozen creek, snuffling after the fresh tracks of a hare, when she hears her mother scream.

The sound is brief and choked off, but full of pain. Caroline is running for the cabin before she can think about it, and the fear hits her a moment later like a jolt of energy, speeding her paws over the snow. Her father is away trapping and hunting, and too much can go wrong living alone as they do.

It is the deep of winter, and the cold does not forgive mistakes.

The cabin isn't far. Caroline sees her mother in the shoveled-out path to the woodshed. She is moving slowly, like wounded prey. No smell of blood, though.

Her mother looks up, face white and focused against the pain.

"My leg. Broke it when the log slipped. Was going to saw up that big one." She breathes in short, gasping puffs of white air. The leg bends oddly, even through her heavy clothing.

A wolf with a broken leg will die. Her mother is going to die. Caroline whines, a high-pitched keening sound, and she can't seem to stop.

"Caroline!" Her mother's voice is sharp and desperate.

Caroline shakes her body and forces herself to think like a human. Humans don't need to die from broken legs, if they can get help. A doctor. Her mother needs a doctor. But the sledding team is with her father.

"Fetch help from the Thomsons. I'll wait in the cabin." Caroline yips sharply in confirmation, and her mother hobbles slowly toward the door. Caroline tries to help her get there.

"I'll make it. Go." Her mother's tone is tightly controlled.

Used to obeying that voice, Caroline turns and starts to run, east toward the Thomson's. It's only two miles, and she's a fast runner. But when she gets close to their house, there is no smell of woodsmoke in the air, and her frantic barks go unanswered.

They are not there.

Grimly, Caroline continues to run, past the house and eastward along the trail. She slows down. The burst of speed that took her to the Thomsons' house is not something she can keep up for long, but if she paces herself, she can run all the way to Fort McPherson if she has to. As a human, she never could have gone so far without a sled.

Caroline lolls her tongue out, cooling off while she runs. She is a spark of life in the cold. She can run forever, the one moving creature in a world frozen into stillness.

A scent trail pulls her nose to the side. It's fresh and less than an hour old: a dog sled, no, two sleds. She hesitates, then turns left, following their trail.

They are fast, but she is faster. Caroline spots them, two dark smudges up ahead. She gains on them, but the wind is from behind her, carrying her scent to the dog teams. They bark, the warning of tame animals for the wild cousin they have left behind, and the drivers stop the sleds and look around. One of them spots her and points, shouting to the other, who reaches into the sled.

Caroline stops, frozen into place.

She is staring into the muzzle of a rifle.

With the desperation of fear, she reaches for her human self and changes, losing her fur and her paws and her sharp nose. She shivers, naked in the bitter cold.

They still might shoot her when they realize what she is.

"Great Scott!" she distinctly hears one of them say, and he lowers the rifle.

Caroline steps through the snow toward them, arms uselessly hugging her chest. Her nipples have contracted painfully, and her feet are rapidly fading away to numbness. One of the men grabs a blanket from the sled and comes running up to her. She wraps it around herself gratefully.

"Thank you," she says through chattering teeth.

"You're welcome," he says, looking anywhere but at her. He's blushing a deep red.

Caroline has no patience for modesty at the moment. She needs to save her feet.

When she reaches the sleds, the other man has cleared a space for her to sit on one of them, and she curls in around herself, shivering inside the blanket. The wind still cuts through it. The first man takes off his hat and puts it on her head, then wraps his jacket around her.

He clears his throat. "Constable Bob Fraser, RCMP."

The other man says, "And I'm Constable Buck Frobisher." He's red in the face, too, even though she's all wrapped up now. Caroline is struck by how young they both look, only a couple of years older than her.

"Caroline Pinsent. My mother needs a doctor. Please, can you help us?" Caroline hears her voice break a little. She hates feeling so helpless.

"Of course we will! Where is she?" Constable Frobisher says.

"About eight miles west of here. I can show you the way." Her teeth are still chattering. She considers changing back, but decides not to--it would disturb the dog teams. Also, these men don't seem to be hostile to shifters, but it wouldn't do to push her luck.

"Are you all right, miss?" Constable Fraser says. "You must've taken quite a chill."

"Call me Caroline." She wiggles her toes, looking at them. They're red, not white, so she should be all right, even if her whole body is still shaking with the cold.

"I think I'm okay," she says.

He still looks worried. "Let's get you bedded down. I think there's more room on my sled."

"There's plenty of room on mine," Constable Frobisher objects.

"Well, you have all the dog food. She shouldn't have to sit with the raw meat."

Caroline smiles to herself. What do they think she eats as a wolf?

She's soon settled in Constable Fraser's sled, with two sleeping bags around her. Her body heat slowly inches its way down her feet into her toes, leaving tingling pain in its wake. She isn't worried, though--shifters have an easier time staying warm than ordinary people.

The dogs are still wary of her, but they're well trained. They run steadily in front of her now, the gangline taut as they pull the sled back along their own tracks. It's not comfortable, exactly--the snow is packed on the open ground, which makes for a bumpy ride--but Caroline is deeply grateful anyway.

She wonders how her mother is doing, alone and in pain.

Now that she thinks about it, running off like that was quite a dangerous plan. The Thomsons are friends, so they would have helped, but if she'd had to run all the way to For McPherson, what would she have done? Run down the main street as a wolf? Or naked? She shakes her head. Of course, her aunt lives there, and she's a shifter, but could she have reached her without being seen?

Caroline is blazing with heat now, only the tip of her nose cold from the wind. Constable Fraser's mittened hands are on the handle of the sled, just above her head, and she hears his occasional grunts of exertion and yelled commands to the dogs.

The thought strikes Caroline that not all men might have treated a naked woman as well as these did. She didn't have time to think about it before, but now she pulls up her upper lip in a silent snarl.

If they had tried anything, she would've changed again and torn their throats out.

They reach the cabin, and her mother is carried out by the two men. Constable Frobisher carefully holds her leg out in front of her. Her eyes widen in alarm when she sees Caroline bedded down in the sled.

"I'm all right," Caroline tells her. Her mother nods, looking relieved.

"Erm. Would you like me to fetch you some clothes?" Constable Fraser says, obviously uncomfortable with the topic.

"Please. My boots and long coat are by the door. I can get to the cabin in those."

"All right." He gets the clothes, and the two men politely turn their backs while Caroline steps into the boots and wraps the coat around her.

Her mother takes her place among the sleeping bags. She looks worn out, and Caroline tries not to think about what the long bumpy ride will be like for her.

"Don't you worry," says Constable Frobisher. "We'll get her to the hospital, and she'll be fine."

"Thank you, again, both of you," Caroline says.

"Will you be all right alone here?" Constable Fraser says, frowning in worry.

"My father is coming home the day after tomorrow. I'll be fine," Caroline replies.

"We might be back to check on you. Just in case." He fiddles with the snub line on the sled. "Well, I guess we should get going."

They take their leave of her and the dogs start running eagerly. Caroline's legs are cold, but she stands by the door and watches the sleds until they are out of sight.


End file.
